The Choices We Make
by Shirl
Summary: COMPLETED-Robert Romano invites someone special back into his life to help save the life of Mark and Elizabeth's child.
1. Episode 1

TITLE: The Choices We Make  
DISCLAIMER: Characters from ER are the property of Warner Brothers and  
Constant C Productions.  
ARCHIVE: You are welcome to download this story for your own reading,  
but please do not archive my fanfiction on any website without my permission  
RATING: PG  
KEYWORDS: Medical Drama, Ensemble Cast - major focus on Robert Romano;  
minor one on Elizabeth Corday and Mark Greene  
TIMELINE: Set during SEASON 7, but in the near future. Spoilers from  
"Rescue Me", onward.  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I tried to structure this story like a real episode; in  
fact, a two-part episode. While I did some research for it, I'm sure there  
are errors in medical accuracy, hospital policies, etc.. I apologize  
upfront for that but let's move on :-) The character of Romano has always  
fascinated me, but TPTB are making him a little too villainous these days  
for my tastes. Here's my attempt to correct that. And I haven't found many  
fanfics with him as the focus, so here's my contribution to the cause.  
Flashback sequences are surrounded by parentheses ((( )))  
  
  
(((1966...  
  
Five-year old Bobby sat quietly in the corner of the sandbox, moulding his  
masterpiece with skillful hands. The tipsy sculpture needed one more  
addition and then it would be complete. Reaching for the blue plastic  
container by his foot, he began to fill it with sand.  
  
Moments later, a spray of the grainy substance doused over him.  
Though he instinctively averted his head against the assault, the coarse  
granules stung his cheeks. Blinking furiously, he spat out some sand,  
grimacing against the grittiness that coated his mouth. Raucous laughter  
reached his ears and he finally looked up to see two boys grinning  
at him. Though he fumed silently through narrowed eyes, he said nothing.  
  
"Watcha think of your stupid castle now?" one of the boys taunted.  
  
Still no response.  
  
"He's a retard," the other boy declared. "Come on, let's go."  
  
Relieved to be left alone once more, he glanced at the remains of  
his labour, kicked and stomped to oblivion. He swiped at his lips  
to rid them of the remaining sand and then rubbed at his left eye.  
  
"Don't cry. I'll help you."  
  
He looked up to see a girl's concerned face. "I'm not crying.  
My eye hurts." Annoyed, he watched her perch on the edge of  
the sandbox. "Get lost," he told her. "I don't need help."  
  
"Okay. I'll make my own, then."  
  
While part of him wanted to shove her into the sand, he decided to  
ignore her and continue with his work.  
  
"You're not in my class. Who's your teacher?" she asked.  
  
"Mrs. Webber."  
  
"What's your name?"  
  
"Would you shut up? I don't know you. I don't even like you."  
He lashed out at her with exasperation, wondering if she'd go away.  
But she didn't. It seemed she was now ignoring him, intent on her  
own creation. He suddenly felt bad but the feeling puzzled him.  
What was he feeling bad for? "It's Bobby," he stated.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Bobby! My name is Bobby!"  
  
"Okay, okay! Stop yelling!" With a startled expression, she regarded  
her new acquaintance. "My name's Lara."  
  
Having been properly introduced, the two children quietly continued  
to work side by side.)))  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Mark."  
  
"Hmmmm."  
  
"Mark, wake up."  
  
"Sure, thanks, honey," he mumbled.  
  
"Oh, for God's sakes."  
  
Grunting with the effort, Elizabeth Corday struggled into an upright  
position. With another glance at the bedside clock radio, she began to  
time the next contraction. "Ooohhh!" she cried out, biting down on her lip.  
  
The cry of pain served to finally rouse him from sleep, ever so slowly.  
"What's wrong?" he asked, speaking through a yawn.  
  
"What do you think?" she snapped.  
  
Suddenly wide awake, he bolted upwards, staring at her with raised eyebrows.  
"Is it time?"  
  
With deliberate deep breaths, she calmed herself. "Yes." Managing a smile,  
she cupped his cheek. "It's time."  
  
Leaping from the bed, he started to reach for his glasses. How exactly  
he managed to trip over his own feet, he didn't know. The next thing  
he knew, he was face-down on the cold floor, a little stunned but unhurt.  
"It's okay! I'm all right," he called out.  
  
Gazing up towards the Heavens, Elizabeth recited a silent prayer.  
It was going to be a long day.  
  
***************  
  
Robert Romano walked with brisk steps, his eagle eyes missing nothing  
as he marched through the ER. Things seemed a little slow but that was  
no excuse for idleness. He came to a halt by the admitting desk,  
zeroing in on Randi.  
  
"What do you think you're doing?"  
  
The desk clerk looked at him with a bored expression. "Reading."  
  
Flipping the open pages over to expose the cover, he tapped on it with  
his index finger. "The National Enquirer. Very worthwhile of your time."  
Grabbing it from the counter, he hurled it into a nearby wastebasket.  
  
"Hey!" Randi started to protest.  
  
"Find something to do or I will find something for you. Trust me,  
you don't want to leave the option to me."  
  
He brushed past her and she was left to call after his retreating back.  
"I was on my break!"  
  
"Just say the word, Ms Fronczak, and I will gladly make it a permanent one."  
  
Passing by the ambulance bay, he was curious about the next sight  
that greeted him. Kerry Weaver and John Carter flanked the double doors,  
like sentry guards at their posts. Both were looking intently through the  
glass and weren't aware of his presence. "Beautiful day, isn't it?"  
he boomed, satisfied to see them flinch in unison.  
  
"Good morning, Robert," Kerry said dryly.  
  
"What could possibly be so compelling out there, that you're neglecting  
your duties in here?"  
  
Kerry gave John a sideways glance. Aware of the unspoken messages  
passing between the two, Robert didn't hide his annoyance. "Well?"  
he demanded impatiently.  
  
"Dr. Greene called a little while ago," John finally replied.  
"Dr. Corday started having contractions so he's bringing her in."  
  
"Well, well, so the little bambino is coming at last. Good for them.  
That still doesn't explain why the two of you are just standing here."  
  
Kerry started to say something but she was interrupted by John's  
exclamation. "Here they are!"  
  
Robert was left to himself as John grabbed a wheelchair and followed  
Kerry outside. With arms folded across his chest, he watched Mark  
jump out of the driver's seat and dart around to the other side.  
Elizabeth was helped into the wheelchair and brought up the ramp.  
All four of them were talking in excited tones and he knew he  
was about to be ignored. It was time to take charge of the situation.  
  
"I hear today is the big day! You're feeling well, I hope?"  
He directed his question at Elizabeth, looking down at her with  
a dazzling smile.  
  
"As well as can be expected," she replied.  
  
"Good." He clapped Mark on the shoulder. "You'll need to move  
your car. It's blocking the entrance."  
  
"Well, I parked it off to the side a bit so I..."  
  
"No can do," Robert cut him off. "Move it now."  
  
"I'll do it," John offered quickly, holding out his palm as Mark  
fished in his pocket for keys.  
  
He looked at the resident gratefully. "Thanks, Carter."  
  
As they moved through the admitting area, the others crowded around  
them and some of the nurses gave Elizabeth a hug. They talked about  
how her contractions had started early this morning and her difficulty  
in waking Mark up. She left out the bit where he fell on his face.  
She'd save that for another time.  
  
As Mark began to wheel her towards the elevators, Robert stopped  
him once again. "There's paperwork for you to fill out."  
  
"I thought I could do that later. Or up on OB."  
  
"Nope. You came in through the ER, you do it in the ER."  
  
Mark had just about had enough of Romano's pompousness. "Look, I'm not  
going to stand here and argue with you while..."  
  
"Mark, it's all right," Elizabeth interrupted him quietly. "I can wait."  
  
"Nonsense. I'll take you up myself," Robert declared.  
  
Before Mark quite knew what was happening, the shorter man had slipped  
in front of him and started wheeling her away.  
  
"It's all right," Elizabeth repeated, craning her neck to look  
behind her. "I'll see you up there."  
  
Kerry walked with them to the elevator and made one last attempt.  
"I can take her up."  
  
"With that thing?" Robert stared pointedly at her cane. "I don't  
think so. Besides, you need to get to work." The doors slid open  
and he waited for people to step out. Backing inside, he pressed  
the button and the view to the ER floor and Kerry's anxious face  
vanished from sight.  
  
"Have you worked hard at becoming a bastard or were you just born  
that way?" Elizabeth inquired in a polite tone.  
  
"It's taken years of practice," he replied cheerfully.  
  
"Oh!" With a sharp intake of breath, she hunched over in her chair.  
  
"You all right?"  
  
"Fine," she hissed through clenched teeth. "Can't this lift go  
any faster?"  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
(((1971...  
  
Light was fading and the air was growing cooler. They sat on the  
swings, sharing a box of Cracker Jacks. Both were aware they were  
spoiling their dinner but neither one cared.  
  
Impatient to discover the prize, Bobby dug near the bottom, wiggling  
his fingers around.  
  
"What did you get?" Lara asked.  
  
"Hold on. Got it!" He exhaled with disappointment. "Aww, it's a ring."  
  
"Let me see." She took the ring from his sticky fingers and admired it.  
"It's nice. If you don't want it..."  
  
"You can have it." When the last bit of popcorn had been consumed,  
he tossed the box carelessly on the ground without thinking. Glancing  
over at her, he interpreted the look on her face. "You're such a girl,"  
he muttered. Nonetheless, he hopped off the swing and deposited the  
box properly into a nearby garbage can.  
  
She allowed herself a small smile as she played with the ring on  
her finger, twisting it back and forth. "When can we get married?"  
  
"What? Are you crazy?" he snorted, coming to stand in front of her.  
  
"Don't you ever think about it?"  
  
"Of course not!"  
  
"I think we have to wait until we're fifteen, or something."  
  
"I'm not marrying you, Lara."  
  
Frowning slightly, she decided not to let his negative attitude  
deter her. After all, he'd given her a ring. That had to count for  
something. Anyway, they had years to go yet before they could marry.  
Good thing she was a patient person.  
  
Aware of her silence and far-off look, he sighed. "Are you mad?"  
She shook her head. "Want me to push you?" he offered.  
  
"Okay. High but not..."  
  
"Too high," he finished for her. "I know. Ready?"  
  
Starting slowly, he soon had her soaring through the air. Closing her  
eyes, she envisioned herself as a bird, reveling in the wind and freedom.)))  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"One more push should do it," Janet Coburn encouraged.  
  
"Is...that...a...promise?" Elizabeth gasped.  
  
"As close to a promise as I can get. One, two, three, push!"  
  
Squeezing her eyes shut, she bore down with as much strength as  
she could muster. The indignant cries of a newborn soon met her ears;  
a welcoming and wonderful sound.  
  
"It's a boy," Janet announced.  
  
"Told you we'd have a boy," Mark whispered, stroking back Elizabeth's  
damp hair from her forehead.  
  
"Can I see him?" she asked, anxious to hold her son. Janet obliged,  
placing the infant in his mother's waiting arms. "He's beautiful.  
Isn't he beautiful, Mark?"  
  
"He sure is." His voice sounded suspiciously clogged but he didn't  
try to hide his emotions. The baby's wails were subsiding and after  
a final hiccup, he became quiet.  
  
Elizabeth looked up at Janet, who was waiting patiently. "Is he  
all right? I mean, he looks perfectly fine but will you..."  
  
"I'll run all the tests," Janet assured her. "Let's get him cleaned  
up a bit. Have you decided on a name?"  
  
"Yes. David, after Mark's father." After handing her the baby with  
some reluctance, Elizabeth was mildly surprised to see the wet tracks  
on Mark's face. She was feeling a little weepy herself but had  
managed to stay composed. "Are you all right?"  
  
"Yeah." Lifting his glasses slightly to brush at his eyes, he spoke  
haltingly. "I just...well, before the operation, I had all these  
thoughts of things going wrong. That I would die right then and there  
and would never see you again. Would never see our baby being born.  
So seeing him now, I just...I...God, I love you, Elizabeth."  
  
Warm tears spilled freely from her eyes now as she reached out to  
the man that held her heart. "I love you too," she murmured.  
"We're a true family now."  
  
***************  
  
Janet approached the OR desk, accompanied by Jack Kaysen. She spotted  
Shirley chatting with some nurses and called out, "Where's Dr. Romano?"  
  
Shirley jerked her head towards the elevators. "He's just about  
to leave. You better talk to him tomorrow."  
  
"This can't wait." With a renewed sense of urgency, she quickened  
her pace and found him waiting in front of the elevators.  
"Robert, we need to talk to you," she stated.  
  
Barely acknowledging their presence, he continued to stare at the  
closed doors. "As you can see, I'm trying to leave."  
  
"It's important. It's about Elizabeth. Or rather, her baby."  
  
This finally gained his full attention and he swung around to  
face them. "I thought I heard everything had gone well."  
  
"It did. But then I ran some tests and consulted with Jack.  
He concurs that the baby has HLHS."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Hypoplastic Left..."  
  
"I'm perfectly aware of what the acronym is, Dr. Coburn," he barked.  
"That was a 'what' of disbelief, as in, why wasn't this diagnosed during  
the pregnancy?"  
  
Janet stiffened in defensive mode. "None of the ultrasounds gave  
any indication of an anomaly. What's important is that the diagnosis  
has been made now."  
  
Withering a notch under Robert's cold gaze, she briefly glanced  
at Jack. He easily picked up the thread.  
  
"I've started him on a prostaglandin drip. The good news is that we  
diagnosed this fairly soon after delivery. The bad news is that  
the heart is severely hypoplastic." Here, Jack paused ever so slightly.  
"I think a transplant is the only option."  
  
"Who else knows about this?" Robert asked.  
  
Janet spoke up once more. "I haven't spoken with Mark or Elizabeth yet.  
I tried to contact Neal Bernstein but he's away at a conference.  
Besides, we don't have a..."  
  
Robert cut her off rudely. "There's no pediatric cardio-thoracic  
surgeon on staff. Yes, I know this, Dr. Coburn. Thank you for  
pointing out the obvious." In fact, they were in the process of  
interviewing candidates for the position but no one had been hired yet.  
Bringing one hand to his right temple, he rubbed it thoughtfully.  
"I may know someone..." he started to say softly. Someone from his  
past that he hadn't been in contact with for a long time. Aware that  
they were staring at him, he snapped to attention once more. "All right,  
leave this with me," he ordered briskly, already starting to walk away.  
  
"What should I tell the parents?" Janet called after him.  
  
"Nothing! I'm officially taking over this case."  
  
Janet and Jack watched his retreating back for a moment before  
looking at each other.  
  
"Well, I guess that's that," Jack said wryly. He glanced down at  
his colleague. "Keep me informed of what's happening."  
  
"I will."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
(((1976...  
  
Out of the corner of Lara's eye, she saw Bobby standing several feet  
away down the hall. He was giving her puppy-dog eyes again.  
  
"I'll be back in a minute, girls," she said to her friends.  
  
He'd been slouched over, but straightened up as she approached him.  
  
"Hi."  
  
"Hi."  
  
He cleared his throat. "Is it true? Are you going out with Nelson?"  
  
"I will be tonight. He's taking me to a movie."  
  
"I hear he likes to sit in the back so he can get it on with  
a girl."  
  
Feeling the warmth creep up on her cheeks, she gripped her books  
more tightly to her chest. "I don't believe you."  
  
He shrugged, shifting his feet. "It's true. I can't help it if  
you don't believe me."  
  
"It sounds more like something you would do," she accused.  
  
He couldn't help smirking a little. "You know me too well."  
Growing serious again, he kept his voice low. "I'm telling you  
the truth, Lara. I've heard Nelson bragging about other girls  
he's been with. He's not a nice guy."  
  
"Oh, and you are?"  
  
"Well, only to you."  
  
Feeling more unsure of what to believe, she stared at him, trying to  
interpret the look in his eyes. "Do you swear it?" she finally asked.  
"Swear that you're telling the truth?"  
  
"Sure. What do you want me to swear on?"  
  
"The ring."  
  
He gave her a confused look. "What ring?"  
  
"Just say it."  
  
"Okay, I swear on the ring. Happy now?"  
  
"Uh huh. So where are you taking me tonight?"  
  
Rather taken aback, he pointed a finger at himself. "Me?"  
  
"Yes, you, Bobby. Since I'm not seeing a movie with Nelson, I better  
be doing something with you."  
  
He tried to think of something witty to say but found his mind a blank.  
That was a rare occurrence. "I guess we'll think of something," he  
muttered.  
  
She smiled. This had worked out better than if she'd planned it.)))  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"I'm sorry, sir, could you repeat the name?"  
  
Robert gripped the phone ever more tightly, frustrated with this  
useless woman. "Kirshner. Lara Kirshner. She's the Chief of Pediatric  
Cardiology at your hospital. I am speaking with the University of Chicago  
Children's Hospital, am I not?"  
  
"Yes, sir, but I have no listing for, um, please hold a moment."  
The sound of an easy-listening radio station graced the phone line  
and all he could do was wait. Thankfully, the operator returned  
quickly. "I've just been told that she's resigned from that position."  
  
"What? When was this?"  
  
"I don't know. But she has joined the medical school's faculty. Would you  
like the number?"  
  
"Yes," he replied, reaching for a pen. After connecting with the school  
and waiting for several more moments, he heard a voice that caused a rush  
of memories to nearly overwhelm him. However, he was able to remain cool  
and collected. "Hello, Lara. It's Robert Romano calling."  
  
***************  
  
There was a small party going on in Elizabeth's private recovery room.  
Co-workers and friends were constantly coming in and out and the proud  
parents appreciated all the good wishes.  
  
Mark had to endure endless retellings of his ungraceful leap from  
bed earlier that morning, but he persevered with patient good humour.  
  
Just after Jing-Mei Chen and Abby Lockheart left the room, Janet came  
in to check on the new mother.  
  
"It's been a while since I've seen David. Could you bring him to me?"  
Elizabeth asked.  
  
"It's not the best time, right now," Janet replied.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Has Robert spoken with you yet?"  
  
Starting to grow concerned, Elizabeth tensed her shoulders.  
"No, why would he? I haven't seen him since he brought me up to OB.  
What's going on?"  
  
Though she knew it would come back to haunt her, Janet couldn't  
keep the parents in the dark any longer. It wasn't fair and it  
wasn't professional. With a deep breath, she launched into an  
explanation of what was ailing their son.  
  
***************  
  
The moment the buzzer rang, Robert leapt out of his chair.  
  
"Dr. Romano, Lara Kirshner is here to see you," announced the  
neutral voice of his assistant.  
  
"Thank you, I'll be right out."  
  
He counted to sixty before squaring his shoulders and opening  
the door. There she sat in his outer office, looking prim and  
composed. His first thought was, 'how can she possibly look exactly  
the same after so many years?' But upon a closer look, he noticed the  
grey in her hair and the laugh lines around her eyes; elements that  
hadn't been present twenty years ago.  
  
"Dr. Kirshner." He approached her with an outstretched hand.  
  
Getting to her feet, she met him with the barest hint of a smile.  
"Dr. Romano." She shook his hand firmly.  
  
"Thank you for coming so quickly. If you'll follow me, I'll take  
you to our patient."  
  
The long walk down the halls was made almost entirely in silence.  
Though it was mildly uncomfortable, it was perhaps a necessity.  
After two decades, they needed time to absorb one another again.  
  
Unable to help himself, he risked a sidelong glance at her profile.  
Something seemed off but he couldn't quite place it. Gazing down  
at her feet, he found his answer.  
  
"You're wearing heels," he stated.  
  
One corner of her lip turned upwards in amusement. "Does that  
bother you?"  
  
"Of course not. It's just an observation."  
  
After entering the NICU, Robert led the way and found Jack by the  
newborn's side, perusing his chart. At his side was Michael Migenes,  
the pediatric attending surgeon.  
  
Robert introduced the two men and then turned to his companion.  
"This is Dr. Lara Kirshner from U of C. She specializes in  
peds transplantation so I've asked her to consult with us.  
Gentlemen, I expect you to give her your fullest cooperation."  
  
With a nod to Lara, Robert stepped back slightly, as if signaling  
that she should take over. She began asking questions and started  
her own examination of the baby. While he participated fully in  
the discussion of their patient, there was the tiniest margin of  
himself that couldn't quite believe this was real. He enjoyed watching  
her move, watching her work, watching her...breathe. Several times  
he caught himself staring at her and he had tear his gaze away before  
it became obvious.  
  
All four of them were so involved in their consultation, they didn't  
notice when the distraught father entered the room.  
  
"Robert, what's going on?" Mark asked. While he emotionally wanted  
to shout the question, he spoke in hushed tones, aware of being  
surrounded by critically ill infants. "The baby has HLHS?  
Why didn't you tell us?"  
  
"Try to calm yourself, Mark," Robert began, but this time he was  
on the receiving end of being interrupted.  
  
"I am calm! I just want to know what the Hell is going on."  
  
Lara stepped forward then and placed herself in front of Mark.  
With her petite size, she had to crane her neck to look up at him.  
Finally noticing that her hand was being offered, he shook it  
automatically.  
  
"You must be Mark Greene. I'm Lara Kirshner. Robert asked me to  
come take a look at your son. I specialize in pediatric cardiology  
so I'm sure I can be of help."  
  
"Is he going to need surgery?"  
  
"Most likely, yes."  
  
"What...what about a transplant?"  
  
"It's too early to say for sure but that is also a possibility."  
  
She spoke with quiet authority but also tempered it with complete  
honesty. Though Mark was obviously still worried, he wasn't quite  
as frantic as when he'd burst through the doors. He appreciated her  
forthrightness and somehow, instinctively felt he could trust her.  
  
"So what happens now?" he asked.  
  
"Let me finish my examination. Then I..." She broke off, gesturing  
to encompass the group of doctors who were waiting to continue.  
"...we will talk to you and Elizabeth to discuss all our options.  
I know it's difficult, but please try to be patient for the next  
little while."  
  
He breathed a barely audible sigh. "Yeah, I'll try."  
  
"Okay, we'll talk again soon." Waiting until Mark left the room,  
she turned on her heel to face the group. "Now, where were we?"  
  
***************  
  
The knock on the door that Elizabeth had been both longing for and  
dreading finally came. One after the other, the solemn faces filed  
into her room. Mark was by her side, along with Janet. Although the  
OB consultant's responsibility to the mother was essentially over,  
she wanted to hear what the surgeons had to say. Though she'd said  
nothing aloud, perhaps part of her felt badly that the baby's condition  
hadn't been diagnosed during pregnancy.  
  
Introductions were made all around and Lara pulled a chair over  
to Elizabeth's bedside. "Okay," she began, "let's start at the  
beginning. David has been diagnosed with HLHS. Hypoplastic Left  
Heart Syndrome. It can affect the heart to varying degrees but  
I'm afraid in your son's case, it's very severe. The left ventricle,  
left atrium, mitral valve, and the aorta are all affected.  
And, unfortunately, the heart is *very* small." She took a moment  
to glance at Mark. "Now, I know I told you that we'd come here  
to discuss all our options but taking everything into consideration,  
we all feel that a transplant is the only solution."  
  
Elizabeth sucked in a breath. "No..." she moaned. Pressing one hand  
to her lips, she leaned further into Mark for support. Although she  
was a surgeon, she wasn't thinking like one now. She was a mother and  
she couldn't comprehend that her newborn son would have his heart  
ripped out and replaced by another.  
  
"If you agree, we'll make the call to UNOS and I'm confident that  
David will be placed as Status 1A," Lara continued.  
  
"It sounds like we have no choice," Mark said, his expression grim.  
  
"How long will he live without the transplant?" Elizabeth asked.  
  
For the first time, Lara showed some hesitation. "It's very difficult  
to say and I don't like to make guesses."  
  
"In your honest opinion, then," Mark insisted, counting on the  
integrity that he sensed in her.  
  
"Forty-eight to seventy-two hours."  
  
Shocked, Elizabeth stared at her in horror. "My God, is that all?"  
  
"I'm afraid so."  
  
"And you all agree that a transplant is the only option?" Mark asked,  
still having trouble comprehending the thought.  
  
"Yes," Lara replied. Though she looked at the others around the room,  
no one disagreed with her. They had been unanimous in this recommendation.  
  
"Well, let's do it, then," he said firmly, with more enthusiasm than he  
felt.  
  
"Elizabeth?" Lara prompted.  
  
She hesitated, but only briefly. "It seems we have no alternative.  
I agree to the transplant."  
  
  
  



	2. Episode 2

Please see Chapter 1 for Notes, Disclaimers, etc. Once again,  
flashback sequences are surrounded by parentheses ((( )))  
  
===========================================  
  
(((1981...  
  
It had taken Lara a long time to decide where she wanted to set up  
the meeting. Then, taking another look at the once precious item,  
the answer had become obvious.  
  
Leaning back in the seat, she closed her eyes, tilting her face  
towards the sun. Basking in the warmth, she heard the familiar voice.  
  
"Hi."  
  
Not yet opening her eyes, she held her position. "You're late,"  
she stated flatly.  
  
"Sorry, I had trouble finding parking and...yeah, I'm late. I suppose  
I was trying to delay the inevitable."  
  
Slowly becoming upright again, she finally opened her eyes. Bobby was  
seated on the swing next to hers, gently swaying back and forth.  
He waited for what seemed like agonizing minutes for her to begin  
speaking, but she remained silent. He finally couldn't stand it  
any longer. "Have you made a decision?" he asked nervously.  
  
"Yes. It's over."  
  
Though he'd expected those very words, the finality of hearing them  
voiced sent a bolt of fear through him. "I..." Licking his dry lips,  
he hesitated and started again. "Lara, please give me another chance."  
  
"Do you know what it did to me, seeing you with that woman?  
Part of me died inside. You did that to me. And don't try to  
tell me that you'll change. I know you. The sad part is,  
I know you and I still love you. Can't quite figure that one out."  
She spoke matter-of-factly and could even appreciate the irony.  
Though her heart was breaking, she knew what had to be done.  
  
Letting go of the chains, she stood up from the swing. From her  
skirt pocket, she pulled out the ring and held it out to him.  
"Here, I want you to have this." She waited until he took the ring.  
"You don't even remember, do you."  
  
He examined the cheap, plastic thing, searching his memory. "Did I  
give this to you?"  
  
"Yeah," she replied, her tone wistful. "That's okay, I shouldn't  
expect that you would remember. It was a long time ago. I'm the  
one that pinned all my hopes on it. Just the childish dreams of  
a girl that didn't know any better."  
  
"Lara..."  
  
"Goodbye, Bobby."  
  
Turning away, she walked as quickly as she could. By the time  
she reached the edge of the park, she was sobbing openly,  
unable to catch her breath. She hated him and loved him at  
the same time. How ironic.)))  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
By her best estimation, there were forty-two peas on her tray.  
She wondered how many apples it had taken to fill the plastic  
container of juice.  
  
At the knock on her door, she looked up.  
  
"Am I interrupting?" Peter Benton asked.  
  
Elizabeth managed a small smile. "Peter, come in."  
  
Before sitting down, he nodded towards her untouched tray.  
"I guess you're not hungry?" She only shook her head in answer.  
"I could sneak you in a pizza. Or how about a hamburger from Doc's?"  
  
That elicited a chuckle from her. "You're terrible. Is that the  
kind of food you offer to your patients?"  
  
"You're a special case." After a period of silence, he spoke again.  
"I heard about David."  
  
She gripped the edge of the blanket. Hard. "Yes, I imagine everyone  
has heard by now."  
  
"Pretty much," he agreed. "I went down to the NICU a little while ago.  
He looks like a fighter." Seeing the helpless infant hooked up with  
so many wires and tubes had brought back unpleasant memories for him.  
  
"I saw him too," she said softly. "I was able to touch him and stroke  
his little hand. I really wanted to hold him in my arms but I didn't  
want to hurt him." She swallowed, trying to get past the lump that  
seemed permanently lodged in her throat.  
  
"Why don't you try to get some sleep," he suggested.  
  
"No, I couldn't possibly. I want to see him again soon."  
  
"You need your rest."  
  
"Don't you understand? He's dying! My son is dying and there's not  
a damned thing I can do about it. He's only got hours to live.  
They'll never find a donor heart in time."  
  
Though he knew the words were useless, he said them anyway. "You don't  
know that."  
  
"I can't sleep when I know he might die at any moment. I should  
be with him right now but Mark insisted that I return to bed."  
  
"I know how you..."  
  
Elizabeth glared at him, hissing, "Don't you dare tell me that you  
know how I feel. You can't possibly...know..." Bringing one hand  
to her mouth, she let out a strangled breath. "I'm sorry.  
I'm so sorry. I forgot. Reese. Of course, you know exactly how  
I feel."  
  
Bowing his head briefly, he looked up again and regarded her with  
tired eyes. "Yeah. I know."  
  
"Oh, Peter," she whispered, her eyes huge and frightened. "I don't  
think he's going to make it."  
  
Unable to contain her tears any longer, she began to tremble and  
he gathered her close. Shuddering in his arms, she wept.  
  
***************  
  
36 HOURS LATER...  
  
Kerry had already made the suggestion to him earlier and he'd refused.  
She decided to give it one last try.  
  
"Mark, you don't have to be here. Why not take the day off?"  
  
Barely glancing at her, he continued to study the board. "I told you,  
it's not necessary." His tone was a little harsh and he realized he  
should try to explain himself. "Look, I appreciate the concern.  
But sitting around and just waiting will make me crazy. I need to  
keep busy."  
  
"Of course. I understand."  
  
Making his decision, he plucked a chart from the rack. "I'll take  
the dizzy guy in Curtain two."  
  
She watched him go, shaking her head. Waiting was the toughest part.  
And truthfully, if she were in his position, she imagined she'd be  
doing exactly the same thing. Sometimes work was the only thing that  
kept you sane.  
  
A soft, accented voice reached her ears. "How is he doing?"  
  
"I'd say fairly well, considering the circumstances," she replied,  
looking up at Luka Kovac.  
  
"Is there any word about a donor yet?"  
  
"No, nothing." As Kerry turned away, she almost bumped into someone.  
"Excuse me," she said automatically.  
  
"No, it's my fault." Lara smiled at her politely. "I'm looking for  
Dr. Greene."  
  
"You just missed him. He headed for Curtain two. Down that hall and  
to the left," Kerry directed.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Who was that?" Luka asked, curious about the attractive, dark-haired  
woman.  
  
"Dr. Kirshner. Robert brought her in as a special consultant for  
the baby."  
  
"Maybe she has good news," Luka commented hopefully. Though no one  
would speak of it out loud, they were all painfully aware of the  
deadline looming over them. At last word, the baby was beginning  
to grow weaker.  
  
"Maybe," Kerry mused. "I hope you're right."  
  
***************  
  
All the essential players were present in the room and tension was  
running high. Luka had been right; a donor heart had been found.  
On the word go, it could be transported to County General in  
just under an hour. But there was a problem. While David's blood  
type was A positive, the donor was B positive. And thus the  
arguments began.  
  
"I don't care what study you're quoting," Michael Migenes said firmly.  
"If the blood types don't match, it just can't be done. The baby  
won't last five minutes without rejecting the heart."  
  
"But you just admitted yourself that infants don't have a mature  
immune system yet," Jack Kaysen pointed out.  
  
"That's true but we're talking about a basic principle of  
transplantation," Michael argued, not about to back down. "You can't  
put A and B together. It would be disaster!"  
  
"I've read the study that Dr. Kirshner is referring to," Robert said,  
putting in his two cents. "It's pretty impressive stuff."  
  
"It's only one study," Michael cut in.  
  
Lara spoke up for the first time in a while. "You're right, it is  
only one study. And I realize it's going to take time before  
it's widely accepted. But may I remind everyone, we're running  
short on time. We were lucky to get this match. Save blood type,  
everything else is perfect."  
  
Elizabeth had remained quiet throughout this discussion but she  
raised her thoughts now. "Theoretically, what you're saying  
makes perfect sense. A newborn doesn't produce antibodies so  
it would seem there should be no fear of rejection."  
  
"If you want a hard fact, here's one for you. Fifty-eight percent  
of babies needing transplants die before a donor match can be found.  
And I'm afraid in David's case, the statistic becomes worse,  
just because his condition is so fragile."  
  
"I think we've heard all the sides to the argument," Mark said,  
looking to Elizabeth to see if she agreed. "Can you give us  
a few minutes alone?"  
  
Michael left the room without a backward glance, muttering under  
his breath. Jack shook his head as he accompanied Lara and Robert  
into the hallway.  
  
"Don't mind him," he commented with a wry smile. "I think he's  
more upset that you're invading his territory. I'm quite interested  
in this study. Can I speak to you about it over coffee sometime?"  
  
"Absolutely." Lara shook his hand once more. "I would love that."  
  
After Jack left them alone, Robert crossed his arms in front of  
his chest. "If I didn't know any better, that sounded like a date."  
Though he spoke in a light-hearted tone, he sounded a little miffed.  
  
"A date? No. I never talk about work on a date. Heart surgery  
and dinner don't tend to mix too well."  
  
He noticed that they were on perfect eye-level again. No heels  
today. And he'd forgotten how lovely her brown eyes were.  
Not liking where his thoughts were going, he forced himself  
to focus. "I really did read that article. Why didn't you mention  
that your name was in the credits?"  
  
She flushed slightly, unsure if the cause was modesty or the  
relentless way his gaze seemed to take in every inch of her.  
"I didn't want everyone to think I was pushing for this transplant  
to tout my own horn. Besides, I played an extremely small part  
in the study. I just gave bits and pieces of my knowledge."  
  
"Do you really think it's the only chance the kid's got?"  
  
"Yes, I do."  
  
The door behind her opened and Lara held her breath, wondering what  
the outcome would be. Mark paused in the doorway and looked directly  
at her. "Let's do it."  
  
***************  
  
Although Lara would have preferred that David be transferred to  
the Children's Hospital for the transplant, she'd decided that  
he was too weak to be moved. With Robert's permission, she was  
able to perform the operation at County.  
  
Elizabeth had only slept fitfully the night before but she refused  
to rest. She even watched some of the surgery from the observation  
room, both fascinated and repulsed at the same time.  
  
Now she sat back in her room, alone. Mark had returned to the ER.  
She couldn't understand how he could possibly work while their son's  
life hung in the balance.  
  
Mark was in the ER but he wasn't really working. He had tried to  
catch up on some paperwork but found he was reading the same passage  
over and over again. Not trusting himself to handle any traumas,  
he'd tried to examine patients with minor complaints. But that  
hadn't worked out either. He'd found he was only listening with  
half an ear, making them repeat something that they'd already  
relayed to him twice before.  
  
He sat in the lounge now, pretending to read a newspaper. He was  
alone until Luka came in for a cup of coffee.  
  
"Mind if I join you?" Luka asked, after pouring himself a cup.  
  
Mark said nothing, simply shrugging.  
  
After a few sips of the strong brew, Luka spoke again. "What are  
you doing here, Mark?"  
  
He bristled in automatic defensiveness. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Why aren't you upstairs with Elizabeth?"  
  
"I was upstairs. We just sat in her room, staring at the wall.  
Then she wanted to see some of the surgery but that's not something  
I particularly wanted to see. So I came down here."  
  
"Any idea how the surgery is going?" Though Mark's voice had  
risen slightly, his indignation apparent, Luka continued to speak  
in a calm and soothing manner.  
  
"I...I haven't checked in a while. I figure it doesn't matter  
whether I'm up there or down here. The outcome isn't going to  
change so what difference does it make."  
  
"Maybe it makes a difference to Elizabeth," Luka suggested gently.  
His comment was met with silence. "I'm sorry. I am pushing my nose  
up your business."  
  
Mark snorted. Apparently not all of his humour had abandoned him.  
"That's 'in' your business, Luka."  
  
"Oh. Thank you."  
  
"You're right. I know you're right." He heaved a tired sigh.  
"I guess I just don't know what to say to her."  
  
"You don't need to say anything. Just be with her."  
  
***************  
  
5 HOURS LATER...  
  
They were nearing the finish line now. The procedure had gone very  
smoothly with no complications. They were now at that important  
step of allowing normal blood flow to enter the new heart. With bated  
breath, they waited. Lara didn't want to use the defibrillator  
unless she absolutely had to.  
  
An almost collective sigh was emitted by the team when the tiny  
heart began to beat on its own.  
  
Several minutes later, the incision was sutured and the surgery was  
completed. Though Lara firmly believed they'd made the right decision,  
all she could do now was wait and pray that the baby would not reject  
the heart. Every uneventful minute that ticked by was a good sign.  
  
After a half hour of simply observing David's vital signs and  
noting no signs of rejection, she was confident enough to speak with  
his parents. Exiting into the hallway, she breathed deeply,  
taking a moment to stretch her stiffened muscles.  
  
Passing by the waiting room, she didn't even notice they were sitting  
there until Mark jumped up.  
  
"I'm sorry," Lara apologized, coming to meet them. "I was headed  
to your room."  
  
"We were going a little mad in there, so we came down here,"  
Elizabeth explained, her words rushed in her anxiousness. "Is he  
all right?"  
  
"Yes, he's doing very well."  
  
"Oh, thank God," Elizabeth uttered, taking Mark's hand.  
  
"So there were no problems with rejection?" he asked, after the  
initial wave of relief had passed.  
  
"No. I will be monitoring him regularly for the next little while.  
I was concerned about his weakened state when we began the surgery  
but he seems to be doing remarkably well. I'm very optimistic  
about his recovery."  
  
Feeling like she'd been squeezed through an emotional wringer  
these past two days, Elizabeth had been sure that all her tears  
had been spent. But apparently she'd been wrong, as fresh  
moisture invaded her eyes. Getting to her feet a little unsteadily,  
she gave Lara a hug. "Thank you for all you've done."  
  
Lara patted the grateful mother on the back. "You're welcome."  
  
"Have you seen Robert?" Mark asked. "We should thank him too  
for bringing you to us." It truly boggled the mind that he  
felt indebted to Romano, but the man had been surprisingly  
supportive throughout this ordeal.  
  
Lara had been wondering the same thing. "No, I'm not sure where he is."  
  
During much of the operation, she'd noticed him standing in the  
observation area. But he seemed to have disappeared now.  
  
"When can we see David?" Elizabeth asked. She already felt that  
she'd been apart from him far too long.  
  
"Once he's settled in the NICU, I'll have someone come and get you,"  
Lara promised. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm just going to get  
cleaned up a bit."  
  
***************  
  
She was exhausted but she couldn't leave without seeing him one  
last time. David was out of danger now and recovering nicely.  
He would still have to be watched carefully but the staff here  
was more than capable of doing that.  
  
Finding the door to his outer office partially open, she hesitated  
and then walked into the darkened room. "Hello?" she called out.  
  
Silence. Regretful that she hadn't had a chance to say goodbye,  
she turned to leave.  
  
"In here," spoke the familiar voice.  
  
So he was here after all. Making her way around the empty desk  
of his assistant, she stood in the doorway that led into his  
private office. "Why are you sitting in the dark?" she inquired.  
  
"Because I like it."  
  
"Mind if I turn on the light?"  
  
"When has my minding anything ever stopped you from doing what  
you want?"  
  
Not even attempting to answer that rhetorical question, she flicked  
the wall switch. The room brightened with artificial light that was  
a little harsh on the eyes and they both blinked rapidly.  
  
Trying not to let his icy stare unnerve her, she ventured a little  
further into the room. "David is doing very well," she started to say.  
  
"Yes, I know. Congratulations. Do you know what I've been doing  
today? Playing detective."  
  
"What do you mean?" she asked warily.  
  
"For starters, I found it very disturbing that you would step down  
from your position at the hospital to teach. I've been...well,  
I've been following your career and I know what it took for you  
to become Chief of Pediatrics. It just didn't make sense to me that  
you'd give it all up for teaching."  
  
A tiny part of her was pleased to hear him say that he'd been  
keeping tabs on her. It made her feel less foolish for maintaining  
a close eye on his professional career for all these years. Of course,  
some of the things she'd heard about Robert Romano were less than  
flattering.  
  
But she didn't like where this conversation was heading and could  
feel herself starting to grow agitated. "I happen to enjoy teaching  
very much."  
  
"Yeah, sure. 'Enjoy teaching'. You don't love it, like you love  
surgery."  
  
"How would you know that?" she shot back. "We don't know each  
other anymore, Bobby. It's been too long."  
  
Hearing his former nickname coming from her mouth affected him  
in a strange way. He wasn't sure if he liked it or not.  
"I watched you in that operating room today and it's obvious.  
You can't deny it, Lara. You love surgery. And you miss it."  
  
Opening her mouth to form another protest, she found she couldn't  
do it. She couldn't lie to him.  
  
"So then I started making a few phone calls. Why didn't you tell me?"  
In a voice tinged with a mixture of accusation and despair, his eyes  
bore into hers.  
  
She stood very still. Now that she knew he was aware of the truth,  
she could feel her defensiveness dissolving away. She didn't speak  
until she'd regained her core of peacefulness again. "It's not  
something I tell to strangers. And unfortunately, that's what we are.  
Strangers."  
  
Getting to his feet abruptly, he jabbed a finger at her. "That was  
*your* decision. You decided that you could never forgive me and  
you refused to see me, no matter how much I begged." He didn't even  
try to hide the bitterness in his tone. All the feelings of hurt that  
he'd thought had been buried long ago had just been simmering beneath  
the surface. What a fool he'd been. He remembered all the rejected  
phone calls and doors slammed in his face with unwanted clarity. It was  
probably the last time in his life he'd desired something and been refused.  
No one dared to defy his wishes now; not if they feared dire consequences.  
  
"If you want to know the truth," Lara said softly, her voice  
a sharp contrast to his outburst. "I forgave you a long time ago.  
It wasn't you that I couldn't forgive. It was myself. For loving you.  
Even after your little indiscretion, I still loved you. If we had  
stayed together, it would have been disaster. We would have ended  
up hating each other."  
  
"You never gave us the chance."  
  
"No, I didn't."  
  
"And now you're dying," he stated stiffly.  
  
"Yes."  
  
He had a sudden thought that caused his breath to catch. "You're not  
seeking treatment, are you?"  
  
Perhaps she'd been wrong. He seemed to know her well after all.  
"No, I'm not."  
  
"With your cancer, chemotherapy isn't the only..."  
  
"Bobby, I'm not doing it." She cut him off with a tone that  
left no room for argument. He knew better than to try, anyway.  
She didn't want to subject her body to radiation and chemicals.  
When it was her time, she would go without a fight. It was different  
with children. Maybe that's why she'd chosen a pediatric specialty.  
They deserved the chance to live a full life. For a child's sake,  
she'd fight to her very last breath.  
  
Watching her closely, he recognized the stubborn set of her jaw.  
She'd made her decision and there was no turning back. No matter  
how much he begged. "How long do you have?" he asked finally.  
  
"A year. Maybe two."  
  
"I won't see you again, will I." It was a statement; not a question.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Yeah. So am I." Turning his back to her, he stalked over to the  
window, looking through the glass but not seeing anything. After a  
long moment, he heard the light fall of her footsteps, the sound growing  
fainter as she walked out of his life.  
  
Several deep breaths later, he cursed. He couldn't do it. He couldn't  
leave it like this. "Wait," he uttered, spinning around. Catching her  
by the door, he brought her hand to his mouth, kissing the palm.  
  
The warmth of his lips still made her stomach flutter. "Bobby..."  
  
"Take care of yourself," he whispered.  
  
"I will." Withdrawing her hand, she stepped into the hallway and was gone.  
  
Alone once more, he leaned against the wall. From his pocket,  
he withdrew the ring that he'd kept for all these years. He had  
never quite understood the full significance of it and he supposed he  
never would. But somehow, it had been important to Lara and thus  
he'd kept it tucked away; his only link to the past. But what use  
was the ring to him now? In a fit of angry petulance, he hurled  
it across the room.  
  
Instant regret overcame him. "Oh, Christ," he muttered.  
  
It took several minutes of combing the floor, but he finally found  
it wedged between some boxes and his assistant's desk. Walking back  
to his inner office, he returned the ring to a small box kept on his  
bookshelf. Refusing to feel sorry for himself, he shut the lid with a  
satisfying snap. He didn't know if he'd ever look at it again, but it  
was enough to know it was there.  
  
Gathering his coat in one hand and his briefcase in the other, he switched  
off the light and walked out, shrouding the room in darkness once more.  
  



End file.
